


A Little Treat

by dinolaur



Category: DCU
Genre: M/M, jaydickweek
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-16
Updated: 2016-02-23
Packaged: 2018-05-21 02:59:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6035353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dinolaur/pseuds/dinolaur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dick surprises Jason with a mid-patrol snack.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chocolate

**Author's Note:**

> written for the chocolate prompt for jaydickweek

"Surprise," Dick chirps happily, holding out the to-go box.

"The hell is that," Jason asks.

"Cookies," Dick says. "I know death and resurrection hasn't taken away that sweet tooth of yours. Park it, Little Wing."

It's been a good week, so Jason sits by him on the edge of the building, their legs hanging over into the empty air. Jason opens the box, and inside are two giant, thick cookies, big enough to be full desserts on their own. "From Davaiu's. And look, you can actually have the bourbon milk," Dick says, handing him a small thermos.

"Hate to break it to you, Dickie, but this won't exactly be my first alcoholic rodeo," Jason says.

Dick rolls his eyes. "Yeah, but this time it's legal, and you can enjoy it the way it's meant to be without my mocking."

Jason's domino bunches up oddly around his brows. "The hell you talking about?"

"Remember the last time Alfred brought these home," Dick asks.

"Why would Alfred bring home a cookie? His are better." It's not favoritism. It's a statement of fact.

Dick stares incredulously at him for a minute. "You don't remember this?" He waves a cookie wildly between them. "These aren't forgettable cookies."

Jason goes tense, and Dick braces himself. He messed up. Sometimes all it takes is a word, a word you had no idea would do anything wrong, and it sends Jason right in the opposite direction. Dick opens his mouth, ready to apologize, because it's been a good week, and he doesn't want to fall backwards with Jason anymore.

"I don't have everything," Jason says suddenly. Dick's mouth closes with an audible click of teeth. "The—uh—the Joker really did a fucking number on my head." He points up at the white streak in his hair. "Brain damage is a hell of a thing. I was comatose for a while after I clawed out and then pretty much a lumbering vegetable with some muscle memory when Talia found me. Lights were on, but nobody was home. Most of it clicked back when she pushed me in the Pit, but—" He trails off for a second.

Dick scoots a little closer.

"Not everything is there," Jason says. "Like, I knew my birthday, but I had to look up what year I was born."

Dick has no idea what to say to that. What can you say? _Sorry a mass murdering psychopath beat you almost to death with a crowbar before blowing you up and now there are pieces of your life missing that you can never get back._

Jason breaks off a piece of the cookie and shoves it into his mouth sullenly. Then he perks up. "Holy shit, this is good."

Dick heaves out a sigh of relief. "Try the milk," he says. The moment has passed. They came out all right. He pulls off his gloves and takes his own bite to hide a smile. He doesn't do a very good job.

"What are you grinning about," Jason asks.

Dick shakes his head. The moment passed. It wasn't a good moment. He hates all the shit that has happened to Jason, but he opened up to him, even for just a minute and told him something personal. Jason trusted him. "Cookies are just really good. Imagine them fresh in the restaurant," Dick says, an obvious deflection, but Jason allows it.

"Did you place the to-go order as Nightwing," he asks.

"Absolutely. I love doing crap like that," Dick says. "You almost always find a tweet about it."

"Only in Gotham is my favorite hashtag in the world," Jason agrees. "I do shit sometimes just to see what people post."

"I would commit all manner of atrocities to be able to have an official Nightwing twitter and Instagram," Dick says. "I know Babs could do something to make the IP address untraceable, but she won't, no matter how much I beg."

"Joint official Robin account," Jason says. "Imagine how jumbled up that nonsense would be."

Dick laughs. "Poor Tim would try to be so serious. Steph would probably mostly post pictures of victory waffles and selfies with Cass. Damian would go on twitter rants. And you and I would reign supreme with way too many hashtag puns."

Jason considers this. "Shit, you think if we all put up a united front to pester Babs she'd do it? Because I'm getting emotionally invested in this idea."

They eat their cookies and drink their grownup milk and make horrible jokes about what various superheroes would do with social media accounts. They get into an argument on whether Bruce would be more horrified over them having control over a Batman account or if giving it to Clark would be better.

And when Dick sees it, he takes a moment to think. There are a few options here, and most of them have consequences. And he isn't sure if they are really consequences he is prepared to face, but he still leans over and slowly drags his thumb over the corner of Jason's mouth where a little smudge of chocolate is gathered.

Jason goes still.

Dick slides his thumb across Jason's bottom lip. "You had a bit of chocolate there," he says lowly, and Jason's nostrils flare. Dick pops his thumb in his mouth, slowly sucking the chocolate off. Jason's eyes bug under the mask, and he breathes a little heavier. His tongue traces the curve of his lip, and heat pools in Dick's stomach.

Dick smiles, tilting his head up just a bit. Jason leans down just as much. "So you pick the treats next time," Dick suggests and jumps off the building.

"Fucking tease," Jason hollers after him, and Dick laughs.


	2. Berries and Crème

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last time Dick brought dessert to patrol. Now it's Jason's turn.

When Nightwing runs into the Red Hood again on patrol he isn't wearing his helmet. The night has been quiet for Gotham; all he has seen is one petty attempt at purse snatching, and the lady almost had the punk herself before Dick dropped down.

Jason grins wide at him with too many teeth. "Shall we play a game," he asks and leaps. Dick flips out of the way, and they begin a chase across the rooftops. It's their family's special version of tag, the one where a punch or a kick landed trades off who is It.

Finally over the top of the Royal Bank Tower, Jason grabs Dick and throws him hard against a wall. The air rushes out of Dick's lungs, and before he can suck it back in, Jason's lips fall over his.

He tastes surprisingly sweet, like strawberries and crème.

Dick's brain short circuits for a couple of seconds, and then right as the synapses snap back, just when he closes his eyes and starts to kiss back, Jason's tongue pushes something into his mouth. There's a brief second of panic, but then Dick realizes it's a candy.

"How's that for a treat," Jason asks, low and husky. Dick makes short work of the candy and grabs fistfulls of Jason's hair, tugging him back down.

Jason crowds him against the wall, his leg slipping between his. Dick grinds down on his thigh, and he trails biting kisses along Jason's jaw and neck. Jason's hands wander down Dick's back, squeezing his ass before curling under Dick's thighs and lifting him up.

Dick's legs wrap around his waist, and Jason uses his weight to keep Dick pinned up on the wall. His lips and teeth drag down Dick's neck, biting and licking soothingly over the tender flesh. "Jason," he pants, breathy, and his hands tighten in his hair. Dick grinds their hips together, and God, he has to get out of his cup now. "Jason, fuck."

"That's basically the plan," Jason says, and a hand slips to rub at the cleft of Dick's ass. There is just enough pressure to feel through the suit. Dick gasps and clenches his legs tighter. He hurries to disable the suit's security and arches to pull down the zipper.

"You better have a condom," Dick says.

"Boy Scouts are always prepared," Jason says, fumbling around with his belt.

Dick laughs, "You so aren't a Boy Scout."

Jason grins wickedly, pulling out a little square of foil and a small bottle of lube. He kisses Dick again, but when he pulls back, he looks a little more serious. "You're good with this? Like, you know how this goes?" Dick nods, and Jason slips his hand down into his suit, trailing his fingers slowly over Dick's cock, thumb rolling over the head and smearing through the precum. "Good, it's very important to practice safe, responsible sex," he quips, slowly pushing one wet finger inside Dick.

"They said as they prepare to do so on a dirty rooftop," Dick moans, pulling Jason's pants down to his thighs and wrapping his hand around Jason's cock. He growls against Dick's throat, slipping in another finger and carefully scissoring. "Come on, Jaybird," Dick whispers with a slow pull and twist of his hand.

Jason rolls on the condom and lubes up liberally, and Dick wiggles his suit to a more manageable position. Jason picks Dick up again and slides inside him with one sharp thrust. "Fuck," Dick moans, rolling his hips. Jason gives him a moment, but then his pace is brutal, and Dick matches him exactly for it.

"God, Dick, you're--shit," Jason pants against his neck. His hands are tight on Dick's hips. He'll have bruises in the shape of Jason's fingers, and he doesn't even want to think about how bad his back is going to look.

Everything in him tightens as he can feel his orgasm approaching. "More, Jason, more," he pants, hands scrambling at Jason's back. Jason shifts, pinning Dick tighter against the wall, one hand slipping between them to pull at Dick's cock. He twists his hand, and Dick loses his rhythm, his scream of pleasure muffled by Jason's lips on his again. Dick shudders, gasping, and Jason keeps thrusting harder until he too comes with a sinful moan when Dick bites down hard on his lip.

Jason's head drops to Dick's shoulder, and for a moment they just cling to each other, breathing hard and shaking. When Jason finally drags himself up, his lips are red and swollen, his hair a wild mess, and he looks perfectly debauched. "Good treat," he asks with a crooked grin.

"Very good treat," Dick says, tapering off in a groan as he pulls out.

There is nothing to clean up with, so Dick's suit is an uncomfortable mess as he pulls it back on. Tonight might need to be an early punch out. They don't say anything about what they just did, what it might possibly mean for them. Jason just kisses him one more time, a hot, burning drag of his tongue over Dick's, teeth pulling at his lip. He flicks one of his strawberry candies at him, offers a wink and a wave, and vaults over the side of the building.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I guess you can never get ok at writing smut if you don't practice? so yeah :/


End file.
